


Racing Certainty - A Coda

by Oriole T (inamac)



Category: British Actor RPF, Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Car Sex, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-01
Updated: 2010-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-12 09:03:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/123207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamac/pseuds/Oriole%20T
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written to fulfil Unsettled's prompt : I would about die if you gave me sexing on the hood of a corvette. DIE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Racing Certainty - A Coda

**Author's Note:**

  * For [unsettled](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/gifts).



> This is a coda to 'Racing Certainty' - but can be read separately.

# Racing Certainty – Coda

 _Autumn 2011 – Ascot Racecourse_

In the light of Blackwood's spectacularly gruesome end in the last film Mark had not expected to be working on the sequel – or at least not to be playing the same role – so Guy's call asking whether he could fit in a week filming a flashback sequence had come as a surprise. One that he had been happy to accept. Having the opportunity to work with Hans again was... well... an _opportunity_.

He had not been surprised when the call sheet confirmed that the outdoor scenes set at Ascot racecourse would actually be filmed there. Guy had a talent for persuading the managers of venues to permit access which would be denied, or at least obstructed, for other directors. And the advantage was that he would be able to get home to the family after filming wrapped for the day.

And the script had been intriguing. Making Coward and Blackwood gay – no – what was the Victorian term? Inverts. Yes. That had been a turn up for the books. Of course, in the confines of the carriage and mindful that they were again aiming for no more than a 12A rating they had done no more than hint at Coward's activities when enticed to his knees by Blackwood. Not that both of them weren't capable of acting a covert blow-job. That was work. The proximity of Hans's mouth to his cock hadn't even prompted an anticipatory twitch.

Now, though...

Although the scene was set on a warm June day it was actually a very chilly October afternoon. For that reason, despite the fact that they had finished for the day and he was no longer in full costume and make-up, he had appropriated Blackwood's heavy leather coat with its fur-lined collar in an attempt to counteract the worst of the wind whipping across the open racecourse and around the stands. As he turned around the end of the stable block and into the space occupied by the horseboxes of the animal supply company, and the cars of the actors and crew, he was brought up short by the sight of his co-star leaning on a bright red car.

Hans was smiling. "A good day," he said. "Sitting around in a horse-drawn carriage all morning and getting paid for it."

"Tomorrow won't be so comfortable," Mark pointed out. Tomorrow they were scheduled to shoot the horse-riding scenes, and while much of that would be down to the stunt riders it would still mean time in the saddle and trying to maintain enough control to ensure that the animal was pointing in the right direction and hitting the marks. And horses could be unpredictable. Especially thoroughbreds.

"Yeah. Rather you than me, mate." He gestured to the car. "What do you think?"

Mark took half a step back to inspect the vehicle. It was a Corvette, low to the ground, the pillarbox red chassis reflecting the grey scudding clouds overhead, the long sleek lines making it look as if it was doing 90mph just standing still. Hans was leaning against one wing trying, and largely succeeding, in looking nonchalant.

"Nice. A bit ostentatious. Is it yours?"

Hans looked rueful. "Actually it's hired. I think the hire company got a bit overwhelmed by seeing the name Guy Ritchie on the order contract – but their mistake is my gain. So, d'you fancy a spin?"

Mark eyed the custom bucket seats and the rapidly growing line of red on the horizon (they had finished for the day because of the failing light) and shook his head. "It's late," he said. "And I really don't fancy the M25 in that."

The other man frowned, then acknowledged the truth of the statement. "It's not exactly practical, is it?"

"No. Beautiful, but not at all practical. I think I prefer the open landau."

Hans turned to look over his shoulder critically at the vehicle. "Yeah. Not so much space in the back." His eyes met Mark's again and he leaned seductively back over the bonnet, spreading his legs to reveal the outline of his sex trapped in the confines of the denim.

Mark swallowed, and Hans's eyes followed the movement of his adam's apple. "Plenty of room on the bonnet," he said. "And there's nobody around..."

Mark knew that he should not accept the invitation, but, damn, Hans had been flirting all day. Probably planning this. He took a handful of steps towards the car, unbuttoning the greatcoat as he did so and pushing the edges back with his fists to reveal his own eagerness.

Hans grinned and reached up with both hands to grip the fur lapels of the coat and pull Mark down over him. They were enveloped in leather and fur, blackness spilling over the crimson of the car, concealing the contact of their bodies and the movement of fingers as they both worked zips and buttons to reveal their mutual heat.

It was madness, thought Mark, drawing back a little to allow Hans to spit on his palm and use the dampness to ease their path. Screwing on the hood of a corvette in the middle of a film set. A special kind of madness. And sex was better than violence – which was the only other option he had in the face of Hans' insistence.

Not that Hans couldn't be violent. He came hard and fast, his grip on Mark's shoulders bruising.

Well, the costume would cover it, and doubtless the horses would contribute their own crop of bruises tomorrow. He used his own hands to press Hans back against the metal, lowered his mouth to the younger man's throat, and drove himself to his own completion with a ruthlessness that equalled that of any of the hard characters he had played.

They had made rather a mess of the car.

~FIN~


End file.
